


Hopes and Dreams

by AriaDream



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, They should be happy somewhere, fated love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-08-09 15:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16452911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriaDream/pseuds/AriaDream
Summary: Gudao falls asleep and wakes up to a strange Rayshift and only one Servant by his side. What does it mean? They're quietly drawn into a little mystery... Sigurd/Brynhildr





	1. Chapter 1

_I’m so sad. So very, very sad._ The young woman thought as she picked her way through the village market, her eyes on her feet. Or rather, what she could see of them as they occasionally peeped out from beneath her rough brown dress. She did not know the word _depressed_ and the concept of mental illness in general was quite foreign to her, but if she had known she would surely have used it. _So very sad._

Deep in her miasma of sadness, she walked into the bakery and looked over the loaves, trying to decide which she would buy. They all looked the same so she picked one at random and after a bit of dickering, put it into her bag. The baker didn’t try to talk to her. No one tried to talk to her anymore…

Then she heard voices and they weren’t familiar. That was odd, she knew everyone in the village. Feeling the mildest of curiosity, she looked to see who was speaking. And then her eyes went wide with shock. The man had his back to her but even with the strange armor she knew that back…!

“ _Sam!”_ She dropped her back and her foodstuffs spilled out, unheeded, as she ran towards that strong back. _“Sam!”_ He didn’t turn so she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her –

Then stopped with a combination of shock, disbelief and profound despair.

“Oh…” It… wasn’t Sam. The face was so similar, the wide green eyes were so much the same but Sam had never worn glasses. He didn’t need them and they were ridiculously expensive besides. And his hair… oh, what strange hair this man had, it was nothing like Sam’s chestnut brown. “I… I’m sorry.” Emotions were welling up, too strongly to be suppressed and her throat tightened as tears stung at her eyes. “So very… s-sorry…” she sobbed once before turning and running away. Behind her she heard the stranger call after her but she didn’t stop as the tears began to fall.

Her heart was so full of pain.

* * *

 

Gudao went to bed as usual. There was nothing out of the ordinary, unfortunately. (getting Siegfried to drag Kiyohime out of his room was normal) After checking under the bed to make sure Serenity wasn’t hiding there, and the closet as well, Gudao settled in for a comfortable rest.

“Master, wake up.” …Huh? Gudao stirred, unwilling to wake up from what felt like a very deep sleep. As he stirred, though, he registered that something was wrong. There was a gentle breeze on his, blankets were missing and he felt like he was on something uneven. Reluctantly opening his eyes, Gudao looked up to see a concerned face looking down at him.

“Sigurd?” Gudao mumbled the name of the newest Servant summoned to Chaldea. Only answering his call three days ago, he’d barely had any time to get to know him. Sitting up, he glanced around to realize he was lying in a meadow filled with soft green grass and spring flowers. “…” Glancing up, he saw the sky was a cerulean blue with only a few fluffy white clouds. “Am I dreaming?” This looked like a dream paradise.

“I do not believe so,” Sigurd said quietly and Gudao looked at him. The dragon slayer was looking away, a faint frown on his face. “It is too soon for us to have bonded that well.” …That was true. Gudao frowned, pushing himself to his feet. “I believe this may be a spontaneous Rayshift. If so, there may be help coming soon.” That would be good, Gudao never felt safe without Mash by his side. Not just her shield but her solid, comforting presence. Sigurd reached up to adjust his glasses before pointing. “There is a village in that direction. Perhaps we should see what is there?”

“Sure,” Gudao said agreeably, hoping someone would notice what was happening soon. Although if he’d just left his body, like with Dantes, it might be a while. They walked through the meadow down to a road, which led to a small village. As they walked Gudao saw farmers in the fields, just beginning the process of tilling and planting. They had oxen and horses and seemed quite prosperous.

“This is excellent farmland, as fine as any in my kingdom,” Sigurd said, echoing his thoughts. “There are no signs of trouble. It is like any village I have seen in my travels.”

“Well, that’s good!” Gudao said cheerfully and Sigurd gave him an indecipherable glance. The young Master really wished he knew the man better. “You don’t think so?”

“In the circumstances, I am suspicious,” Sigurd said after a moment and Gudao bit his lower lip, glancing around. Would Mash eventually come? “Perhaps the village will hold some answers.”

The village, when they reached it, was small but very pretty. Homes and stores of wood, they were built in a very old-fashioned and intricate style. Gudao marveled a bit at the effort that had been put into them… They had gorgeous little curlicues and molding and every home was painted in multiple colors to accent the decorations. The stores were a bit simpler but still beautiful, with very well cared and painted signs denoting the wares within.

“This is truly a very prosperous village, to afford to spend time on money on such things,” Sigurd said, pausing to look up at a two-story home. “These buildings are all so fine, they would have stood out proudly in my capital.” Hm.

“This must be a prosperous place in general. If a small village looks like this, what would the capital look like?” Gudao said quietly, looking around. They were catching a lot of attention but there wasn’t much help for it, they both stood out like a sore thumb. “Do you think we – “ That was as far as he got before a hand suddenly seized Sigurd’s arm.

 _“Sam!”_ Gudao stared, stunned as Sigurd was forcefully turned to look at the woman. _Oh my god she’s so beautiful._ Even after seeing so much feminine beauty in Chaldeas, this woman stood out. Her hair was a gorgeous shade of gold, braided and neatly wound behind her head in a complicated pattern. Her eyes were a rare shade of violet and her face… her face was just so beautiful, pale skinned and perfect. Gudao was stunned and captivated, staring at the wide-eyed hope in her eyes.

That quickly dissolved into utter despair.

“Oh…” she let go of Sigurd’s arm. “I-I’m sorry…” Her face twisted and Gudao realized, with a jolt, that this beautiful woman was about to cry. “So…. S-sorry…” Then she turned and ran away, her soft blue dress fluttering as she sobbed.

“No wait – “ Sigurd reached out but he was too late. The soft patter of feet quickly vanished into the air. “…” Sigurd’s gaze went to something and Gudao followed it to see a brown paper bag lying on the ground. Cans had rolled out and a loaf of bread was peeping out. Sigurd went to the bag and began picking up the cans, putting them back in. “We must find her, Master. She is the key to this,” Sigurd said as he straightened, the bag cradled against his body.

“Eh? You think so?” Gudao wasn’t so sure although the way she’d mistaken Sigurd for someone else, despite his armor, was pretty odd. Sigurd nodded.

“There is no doubt of it. She…” His voice suddenly faltered. “She reminds me of Brynhildr.” …Oh.

“I see.” Gudao quickly rearranged his thinking. She’d mistaken Sigurd for someone named Sam, and she looked like Brynhildr? “Yes, this has to have something to do with why we’re here. Let’s bring back her bag and see if she’ll talk to us.” Gudao was confident she would. Why wouldn’t she?

Well, the only reason she wouldn’t was because she was bawling her eyes out.

“Why… Sam, why… Sam…” The woman was collapsed on the stairs of what seemed to a church, her face buried in her hands as violent sobs wracked her body. Gudao stared, feeling helpless in the face of such grief. “Why… why…” He wouldn’t have known what to do but Sigurd did. He set aside the bag before kneeling at the woman’s side.

“It’s all right miss. It’s all right,” Sigurd murmured as he gently gathered the woman in his arms, patting her on the back. “Shhh. Shhh.” She didn’t resist him at all, no, quite the reverse. She clung to him and sobbed into his chest, her tears wetting his clothing and armor. Finally she pulled away, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m so sorry, stranger, to have… have been an… imposition…” her voice was small and tremulous, so quiet it was hard for Gudao to hear. Sigurd just smiled at her reassuringly, gently holding a small, pale hand in his gauntleted one.

“It’s fine but please, miss, can you tell me what’s wrong? Perhaps I can be of assistance,” Sigurd said and his voice was so soothing that even Gudao could feel it. The nameless woman melted immediately.

“It’s… likely nothing you can help with… but it’s my husband, good sir,” she said and Gudao felt a sudden disappointment as he looked at her hands. Yes, that golden band was a wedding ring. “In the middle of the winter I was having cramps from my, my menses…” A delicate blush shaded her cheeks as she glanced away. “Sam took the horse to go to the village to get me some medicine. And he arrived and bought it from the apothecary but on the way back he – he vanished.” Vanished? “We searched, we all searched, the whole village came out to help but we didn’t find a th-thing.” She sniffed, reaching up with her free hand to rub her eyes again. Sigurd held her other hand, giving her a comforting squeeze. “We even… even… searched the river… but there was… nothing…”

“Miss… I’m sorry, what’s your name?” Sigurd asked and quickly got a response. “Brianna.” What a beautiful name! “I will try to help, I swear it. Please, will you take me to your farm? So I can retrace his steps?” She looked at him with a combination of disbelief and hope.

“You… you think you can? But it’s been many months good sir,” she said and Gudao thought that wouldn’t be a problem. They’d been brought here for a reason, there had to be clues, something to guide them. Sigurd smiled reassuringly, squeezing her hand again.

“Please, call me Sigurd. My Master is Gudao,” he said and she repeated Sigurd’s name easily, then struggled over his. This had to be a European Singularity of some kind. “We are travellers from far away but we will do our best to help.”

“If – if that is what you want, good sir.” Brianna rose to her feet and picked up the bag, holding it against her chest. “My uncle let me take the cart… this way…” Gudao and Sigurd followed as she walked through the village, leading them to what could only be the inn. It was a huge building with a great wooden sign. “We often see many strangers here,” Brianna said as she put her groceries into the cart and untied the pony from the hitch. Her cart was an amusingly small little thing, meant to hold just a few parcels with just enough space in front for one person to sit. Gudao resigned himself to walking. “Are you taking the trade route from the sea to the Duchess’ capital? Or are you perhaps going towards the sea?”

“We are heading towards the capital, most likely,” Sigurd said easily as Brianna gently flicked the reins and her pony started off at an obedient walk. Gudao and Sigurd walked beside the cart and Gudao wondered what anyone seeing them would think. “It would be a shame to see so little of this land.”

“Oh, I’ve never been outside the village. But I’m told the capital is a glory that would put any other town to shame!” Gudao could believe it, with as pretty as this little village was. They quietly conversed as they made their way to the farm and as they walked, he glanced around, hoping Mash would arrive soon.

It just felt wrong not to have his beloved Kohai by his side.


	2. Chapter 2

Sigurd glanced curiously at the young woman on the cart as they left the village at a leisurely pace.

_The resemblance is remarkable._ In her face and figure, Brianna was the spitting image of Brynhildr. _As are the differences._ The hair was different, such a gorgeous shade of gold, quite unlike Brynhildr’s paler shade. The way she moved and dressed was also different… to Sigurd’s eyes, Brianna was precisely what she seemed, an innocent young farmer’s wife. He’d seen women like her a thousand times over in his travels, although rarely so beautiful.

He was not the only one to notice that. Sigurd glanced towards his Master with a bit of amusement. Gudao would no doubt deny it but Sigurd had noticed his disappointment as he registered that the young lady was indeed married. It was a bit absurd, with so many young ladies in Chaldeas so eager to bed him, yet Sigurd thought it was natural. A beautiful young woman in such obvious distress would always tug on the heartstrings of an earnest young man.

“Um… good sir, I think I should warn you.” Sigurd’s attention went back to Brianna. She was looking at him with wide violet eyes and a trace of anxiety on her face. “My – my husband’s uncle is living with me. He’s quite, um, cantankerous and… and unkind. Please, don’t take him too seriously sir.” Family? Interesting.

“Can you tell me more about your family, and your husband’s too?” Sigurd asked. Anything might be pertinent. Brianna hesitated a moment before replying.

“Well, I was born and raised in the village. I’ve never left it, there was never any need to, with how the caravans come by.” She sounded a little defensive to Sigurd’s ears. Still, it was hardly uncommon for peasants to never travel. “My family are dead… there was a terrible fever that ran through the village when I was just a little girl and it took them away.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sigurd murmured. Brianna gave him a soft smile.

“It’s nothing. Truth be told, I can hardly remember them, although I bring flowers to their graves every year.” Very respectful. “I was the only one in the village to be orphaned entirely. My parents were very poor and left me nothing, so the village priest and his wife took me in. They raised me well and taught me to read. And that was how I met Sam,” her voice softened and Sigurd felt a tightness in his chest at the tone. _This is a woman in love._

“I already knew him, of course, but Sam’s uncle paid the priest to teach him to read and write, so we had lessons together.” They passed over a wooden bridge that spanned a small river. Sigurd glanced into the water thoughtfully. It wasn’t that deep but yes, someone could drown in it. He could see why they’d checked it. “I was a bit older so Father Hendrick expected me to keep Sam at his studies… oh, I hated him back then.” Eh? Sigurd’s gaze went back to her and he could see that Brianna was smiling fondly in remembrance. “He wanted to do anything but study boring books.” Ah, that was right. Sigurd felt a bit of heat in his face as he remembered how much effort it had cost Regan to teach him his letters. “But once he finally learned how to read, nothing could stop him.” Yes, reading had become a great joy. “And when… I became a woman… he started noticing…” Brianna looked away, her face pink and Sigurd could easily imagine it.

“He asked you out?” Gudao asked brightly and Sigurd winced a bit inside. He didn’t think Brianna would understand that. Sure enough, she looked a touch puzzled.

“Well, he asked me to go on walks with him if that’s what you mean. Down by the hedge row was where he asked me to marry him,” Brianna’s voice softened again and Sigurd smiled a bit as he remembered his own proposal to Brynhildr. Ah, that snowy mountain peak had been so beautiful.

“What about your husband’s family? Where are his parents?” Gudao’s words pulled Sigurd out of his reverie and it was a good question. In peasant families like this, all generations would normally live together and Brianna had only mentioned an uncle. She was silent for a moment and Sigurd frowned. He could tell, with his own intellect and also crystallized wisdom, that Brianna was debating how much to say.

“I normally wouldn’t tell these things to strangers but since you’re helping, sir… we have no idea who Sam’s mother might be.” Eh? “His father is Sir Falk, one of the King’s Knights… he, uh… well, the baby was delivered to the barracks with a note that it was his.” Ah. “He never denied it and hired a wet nurse for the boy… as soon as he was old enough, Sam’s father sent him to live with his uncle. Uncle Reginald was the one who truly raised him.” Reginald… Regan? But if that was the case, who would Falk be? “There are… are unkind rumors that Sam might not be… I mean, Regan and Falk are both rather short and Sam, um, isn’t.” Brianna was blushing as she turned the cart off the main road, down a much smaller dirt path that led up to a farmhouse. They were almost there. “Uncle Reginald says that’s ridiculous, wet nurses are expensive, Falk would never have spent that on a child that wasn’t his.” _Falk must be Fafnir._ Difficult to believe, but Fafnir was Regan’s brother and greed was at the heart of dragons. Sigurd adjusted his glasses. Did that mean…?

Sigurd set aside his speculation as they reached the farmhouse. It was a beautiful example of its’ kind, large and well-kept. The exterior was painted white and blue, and it had a few of the same curlicues as its’ cousins within the town. There was a stable attached and Brianne led the pony there, but only to unhitch him from the cart. Sigurd waited patiently as she took him to the paddock to release him there.

“Oh, uncle is out tilling,” Brianne said, shading her eyes with one hand. Sigurd followed her glance and easily spotted the figure in the fields, with a pair of oxen. “Oh, he was supposed to wait for the village boys to come help out! He’s so stubborn…” Brianna shook her head, turning away. “He’ll be complaining later about his arthritis.” Sigurd smiled to himself as he remembered Regan… dwarves didn’t get arthritis the way a human did, but it hadn’t stopped the old dwarf from complaining about aches and pains. Brianna carried her bag of groceries into the farmhouse, the two of them following behind. “Would you like anything to drink? A bit to eat?”

“Yes please!” Gudao said instantly and Sigurd suddenly frowned. Food... _This is a problem._ They had no supplies and no money to buy any. Chaldeas had yet to make contact. Sigurd could easily go without but his Master could not.

At least the problem was temporarily solved, as Brianna put a kettle on the stove to make tea. Sigurd noted that the stove appeared to be wood or coal fired, a squat, iron thing. It was technology more advanced than he’d had when he was alive. _What era is this?_ He’d seen no weapons yet, in this peaceful land. Those would have helped him date it. Then she was slicing the bread and also a round of cheese. As Brianna did that, Sigurd absently picked up a can and looked at it. The label proclaimed it to be beans. Hmm. _Master, when were cans like this invented?_

_Um? I don’t know… Da Vinci would know. I wish we had contact!_ Gudao replied mentally and Sigurd sighed to himself, setting down the can.

“Here you are – oh, let me put those away – “ Brianna fetched away the cans, setting them in the cupboard. Sigurd couldn’t help but notice how lovely she was in her sky blue gown. His Master dug into the food and Sigurd just sat at the table, keeping him company.

The kettle soon howled and Brianna made the tea. Sigurd accepted a cup with murmured thanks before taking a sip. To his surprise, it was green tea. _Green?_

“This is lovely tea. Where did you get it?” Sigurd asked, feeling a deep confusion about the time and place they were in. Green tea was from Asia and this appeared to be a European singularity. Brianna dimpled at him.

“We grow it here, good sir.” Eh? “This is from our own gardens.” Ah… really? Then Gudao whispered in his mind.

_Tea was grown in Europe starting in the 1700’s. It was mostly black but it would have been green too._ Ah, how interesting. Sigurd tentatively decided that this was likely that time period. So… the very beginning of the Industrial revolution? Most likely.

“I’m very glad you like it. Please, have some bread and cheese,” Brianna said, oblivious to their mental communication. Sigurd took a bit for politeness sake. Gudao was almost done his slice. “I’ll go get uncle or he’ll be in the fields all day…” Yes, Sigurd had no doubt of it. Regan had many faults but laziness had never been among them.

“Try the cheese Sigurd, it’s so good!” Ah, was it? Sigurd finally took a bite of his bread and found it was excellent, with a pleasant chewiness. The cheese was also marvelous, an old, sharp cheddar with little crystals that popped pleasingly under his tongue. “I was so hungry… we don’t have any food.” Gudao said quietly and Sigurd nodded.

“Hopefully we can ask them for some money for expenses.” Although if this Reginald was Regan, that would be a touch sell. Dwarves never parted with treasure if they could help it. “We’ll also need a mount.” Briefly, Sigurd wished he were a Rider. Then they could just use Grani and make better time, too. Alas that that Noble Phantasm was sealed to him in the Saber class.

Setting it aside – it was probably just as well, Saber was his strongest class – Sigurd sipped his tea and enjoyed the food. Although his keen ears caught the sound of a squabble as Brianna returned.

“They’re … ju… gulling… annoying ch…” _They’re just gulling you, you annoying chit._ Sigurd grimaced internally. Of course Regan would think that and with some reason. This was all far too trusting except –

“He looks just like Sam, uncle!” Brianna’s higher tones were easier for him to hear and Sigurd noticed that Gudao had stopped eating. Ah, he’d heard that too. “There has to be a meaning to it, please, we need help so badly.” That made Sigurd wonder. Had they sent word of this disappearance to the local lord? Many disappearances were not worth investigating, sadly. And what about Falk? Surely he’d been informed.

“You’re an idiot!” Sigurd carefully schooled himself to patience, even as anger flared at the insult to Bryn… Brianna. Then the two of them came into the room and Sigurd got his first look at Reginald. A short, dour man with a heavy beard and thick, coarse hair, heavily greyed. Craggy, heavy features with small, dark but intelligent eyes. It brought him back to his childhood and Sigurd automatically straightened his back as Regan… Reginald looked at him. _Sit up straight child!_ Fortunately the man didn’t say that, or Sigurd might have wondered if his mind was leaving him.

“I admit, that’s damned uncanny.” Then Reginald reached into his breast pocket to pull out a pair of glasses. That made Sigurd breath a bit easier, as the uncanny resemblance to Regan lessened. “What’s this then, some kind of summoning magic?” …Uh… Well, that was awkward. “Who are you people?”

“I am Sigurd and this is my Master, Gudao,” Sigurd said smoothly and Gudao waved a little. The dwarf’s gaze went over his Master for a moment before dismissing him and turning back to Sigurd. “Magic is involved in how we came here and we believe it must somehow be connected to the problems you are having. Please, can we not help?”

“Why should you want to?” Reginald came back sharply. “I know magic is real but what has it to do with people like us?” Sigurd had an idea but there was no point in taxing Reginald with it. The man wouldn’t know. “And now you’ll ask us for money!”

“Uncle, what does it matter?!?” Brianna suddenly slammed her hands on the table, a violent motion that made Gudao pull back in surprise. “What does the money matter? What does everything we’ve worked for matter is Sam isn’t here?!?” Tears were starting to leak from the corners of her eyes and Sigurd felt helpless in the face of her pain.

This time, it was his Master who knew what to do.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find him, I swear,” Gudao quickly stood and went to her side, gently touching her shoulder. Brianna sniffed, drying her eyes with one hand. “I’m sure it’s what we were sent here for. We’ll make this better, I promise.”

“…Guess the girl has a point. What’s it all for if the boy isn’t here?” Reginald muttered, seeming to deflate. Sigurd found it sad and a bit unsettling, seeing the old dwarf so grim and tired. He took a seat at the table. “Stop blubbering and make us some more tea, girl.” That actually seemed kindly meant, to distract Brianna from her grief. It worked well as she sniffed one last time before going back to the stove. “If nothing else I can hire you to take a letter to Falk.”

“You haven’t sent him one yet?” Sigurd asked, finding that a bit unbelievable. The winter was when no one had anything to do, in terms of crops. Travelling in the winter was difficult but still quite possible. Reginald gave him an unreadable look.

“We’ve sent two so far. They’re not reaching him, somehow. The priest also sent a letter to the Duchess’ guards and they sent us the most incompetent nitwit in the world to ‘investigate.’” Reginald spat out the word with venom. “The little twit just took a few cats at their word and left.” What did that mean? “I would rather go myself but I can’t leave the chit by herself and someone has to watch the farm.”

“The… the most plausible theory is that it was a lone thief… which would explain why we never found the horse. Someone like that could most certainly attack a woman left alone,” Brianna said softly, reaching up to rub her eyes. “Sam would never want Reginald to leave me alone.”

“I was still going to go, as soon as the planting was done and the priest could get in one of his boys to watch over Brianna. I’ll trust family, no one else,” Reginald said gruffly, which struck Sigurd as prudent. “But damned if I can see what Falk can do.”

“He would at least do a proper investigation, with himself at the head of it,” Brianna said as she set a cup of tea in front of her uncle-in-law and finally joined them at the table. That made it a bit crowded but still comfortable.

“We can get started on that. What are the theories you had? And you said the investigator left… why was that?” Gudao asked, sipping his tea and Reginald hesitated, glancing at Brianna. She smiled at him, a tiny, sad smile that reminded Sigurd achingly of Brynhildr.

“The investigator talked to a few of the girls in town and they said they thought Sam had a lover,” Reginald said and Sigurd stared as Gudao almost spilt his tea. “It’s fucking ridiculous! Sam wouldn’t do that. And even if he would, they’ve been married a year! No one tires of a wife that quick. It’s rank jealousy, that’s what it is.” But it still hurt Brianna, Sigurd could easily see that. And Regan could too, he was sure.

“I, uh, see… what are the other options?” They ran through a very short list… an accident involving the river, a thief and magic. And then things suddenly became interesting.

“Everyone knows that magic is real of course,” Reginald said, reaching up to rub his cheek and Sigurd blinked. They did? From what he knew of this era, no one should really believe in magic. “But it has nothing to do with the likes of us. Why would someone use it to spirit Sam away? But then, the two of you are here… so it suddenly seems more likely. But what could be behind it?”

“The King does a good job persecuting them but it could have been a heretic,” Brianna said and Sigurd felt a sense of shock from Gudao. Then his Master was speaking to him urgently.

_Sigurd, that’s what magi call other magi who harm humans and I swear she means it exactly that way. But no one should know that kind of thing!_ How very strange. Even assuming this was a Singularity, it made no sense for such knowledge to be widespread.

“Do the two of you have any talent for magic?” Sigurd asked, trying to safely feel them out a bit further. To his surprise, Brianne blushed.

“I, I do have a little talent for it, and Sam does too… but we’re not Awakened, good sir, so we will never truly be magic users.” Awakened? Oh, she meant the full activation of Mage Circuits.

“No need for it anyway, they say the more Awakened exist, the less power each holds. And we’re farmers, not nobles,” Reginald said gruffly and Sigurd felt another sense of shock from Gudao. He needed no explanation why… these two did truly understand the basic nature of magic. “A heretic is damned unlikely, we’ve never had any problems before. But I still believe it more than Sam just running off!” Hmm, yes, that was incredibly unlikely.

“I and my Master have some skill with magic. We can follow the trail and see if we detect anything,” Sigurd offered although he knew it would be nearly an impossible task, so late after. Yet, perhaps something would linger. “We can speak to the villagers to see if there are any clues and if that fails, we’ll go to see Falk.” Sigurd thought that was likely to happen. The odds that the village would hold answers were low.

“Now you’re going to ask me for money,” Reginald grumbled but it was surprisingly half-hearted. The old dwarf finished his tea before standing. “Wait a moment.” Then he shuffled out of the room and Sigurd frowned. The way he was moving, his joints were surely paining him. It was odd to see, Regan had always been quite spry, despite his complaints.

“Uncle doesn’t show it like most people would, but he does miss Sam,” Brianna said and Sigurd nodded. For a dwarf, parting with money said far more than words. Sigurd felt an odd tightness in his chest at the thought. Regan had never cared for him so… but the dwarf had always intended to kill him as soon as Fafnir was dead. “Will the two of you stay the night before starting the investigation tomorrow?”

“Please, if you don’t mind?” Gudao asked as Sigurd glanced at the window, mentally considering the time. Yes, it would be more practical to just spend the rest of the day here before going back to the village tomorrow.

“That wouldn’t be a problem at all, we have to write letters as well. I’ll write one to my foster-father and Uncle will write one for Falk,” Brianna said as she began cleaning up the teacups. Then Reginald came back with a small bundle of… bills?

“This should be enough I think. What do you think, girl?” he asked, to Sigurd’s surprise. Dwarves normally knew the value of everything they had, down to the last penny. Brianna took the bills and sorted them a moment before nodding.

“That should be enough for them to get to the city, with a bit extra for food and lodging.” Brianna offered him the bundle and Sigurd took it with a nod before gazing at it curiously. Very finely printed bills in the modern style, they had the picture of a man who looked oddly familiar. “Uncle has problems with the new paper money.”

“Newfangled crap.” Reginald muttered as Gudao looked at the money. His eyes widened in surprise.

_Hey, it’s Tesla!_ Ah! Yes, that was the man except – _But he has a mustache. It’s definitely him though!_ Yes, Sigurd could see it now. _I had no idea he had his face on money… I’ll have to tell Edison._ Eep.

_That is cruel, Master,_ Sigurd replied admonishingly. _Amusing, but cruel._ Edison was just so easy to bait when it came to Tesla. Gudao gave him a cheeky grin before becoming a bit more serious.

“Can you keep that in your armor for me?” Ah, yes. Sigurd hadn’t been there to see it but he’d heard a memorable story about pickpockets in France. Nodding, he stored the money away. “Thank you.”

“It is nothing. Is there anything we can help you with, while we are here?” Sigurd asked, certain Reginald would put them to work. The old dwarf did not disappoint.

“If you can muck out the paddock that’d be a help.” Ah, excellent! Sigurd knew very little of farming but like all nobles, he knew every aspect of caring for horses. And it was a simple task that Gudao could do as well. “I’ll show you the tools.” The shovels and rakes that followed were exceedingly familiar. Sigurd smiled as he pitched in, showing Gudao how to clean a paddock. From the looks of it, Reginald had been cleaning it every day so the work was not too hard, on a beautiful summer day.

Tomorrow, they could begin searching for any clues to the fate of his other self.


End file.
